Kathmandu - I felt I was home

Kathmandu-Nepal! A place I’d long wanted to journey to…even before we’d landed I felt I was home.

The plane (yes, we flew) began to descend into the Kathmandu Valley–lined by Himalayan hills. Just beyond the valley to the north lay the high Himalayas–a place enshrined with snow and wonder and, today, clouds. My heart sang as our plane turned low in the valley and in a timeless sweep over the city, a scene revealed itself which remains in my mind’s eye: an entire neighborhood of rooftops lined with prayer flags flapping the most friendly welcome to the stranger arriving from the lowlands.

That feeling of welcome never left. Even our journey through shortcuts on the back streets our taxi took from the airport, weaving through a gauntlet of cows, school children in dapper little suits, men lugging giant loads on their backs, women on the street side near temples and shrines selling flowers (to be made as offerings). I felt like I’d come home…maybe it was the Nepali language classes I’d taken through school a few years before, maybe it was the presence of mountains–always a welcoming sight. The warmth behind the eyes of the friendly faces we saw did nothing to quell the feeling.

A visit to the iconic Swayambunath Buddhist temple that overlooked this city of color and gorgeous light (everyday!) proved peaceful. Despite its attraction of tourists and the plentiful souvenir shops that dotted about the site, a distinct charm revealed itself. The devout walked clockwise around the large stupa in the middle of the square, reciting mantras (prayers) quietly to themselves–engaged in a timeless tradition, the pursuit of purity of thought. How deeply rewarding it was to travel halfway around the world and find a culture of human beings with such noble pursuits. We spent the afternoon around the little hilltop, gazing out over the city–imagining things that were happening, standing still and watching tradition swirl around us. The mountains blew soft kisses to us on the breeze and Life was tangible. Oh, and the monkeys! It was obvious why the place was nicknamed “the Monkey Temple.” I could have watched those joyful little fellas all day as they gracefully swung from prayer flags, treetops, and stairway banisters. They used every part of their bodies to move and didn’t seem to hesitate in action. I appreciated the qualities I could see in them: grace, childlikeness, JOY, freedom, motherly-love.

The afternoon quietly declined into evening and we found ourselves walking home to our friendly hotel room, the lights of Swayambunath far above the tiny streets we navigated, the smell of incense still fresh in our thoughts–a promise of more to see, more to understand.

In the days to come we reveled in the peace of the rooftop garden above our hotel as kites circles high above and flocks of white pigeons traveled like carefree vagabonds between their playgrounds of building tops and the noisy streets below.

We traveled outside the city, walking the hills near another town with a medieval setting. And, of course, there they were again. Children, in all their uninhibited, wild-eyed excitement and natural purity. They were laughing, playing there on a slide in the hills…what did they know about the civil strife that was taking place around them as communist rebels took arms up against the ruling king?

It occurred to me that children have a wonderfully pure vision. Their innocence allows them to see (and is a result of) the good that is constantly unfolding around them. Maybe that is why people love children so much. Spiritual seekers on a path to pure thinking easily recognize these qualities in children.

Soon the sun was setting on our Kathmandu experience, and we were heading west for a trek in the high Himalayas or–more appropriately–high heaven.

This entry was posted on Tuesday, April 18th, 2006 at 2:46 pm and is filed under Home, Travel Blogs. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can skip to the end and leave a response. Pinging is currently not allowed.